Paint the scene: We're out for a week-end lunch at our favorite local Mom & Pop burger joint. Finding a table to accommodate the four of us proves difficult. We stalk another family who appears to be Almost Finished. They leave, and we swoop in.
In a rare instance of serendipity, our meal order is ready at the exact moment we finally get seated. The husband walks toward the counter to retrieve the food, our de facto Table Savers (Tall and Short) sit squirming impatiently in their seats, and I set out for straws and napkins.
I know an important rule: however many napkins you think you might need, double it. I stand conspicuously next to the napkin dispenser: napkin-napkin-napkin-napkin-napkin-napkin-napkin-napkin. Hoarding.
Before I became a parent, I would always get exactly how many napkins I needed: one. Who AM I now? When did I turn into a Walking Napkin Distributor?
The Husband has all the food on the tray and is sauntering back to the table. He glances my way, spots the napkin-obsession-in-full-force, then averts his gaze. He is embarrassed. Sigh. He misses the Single And Child-Free One Napkin girl I used to be.
We all sit down and start handing the proper drinks and food items to the proper owners. The Husband inadvertently spills his (un-lidded, just broke Rule #471) Coke all over everything. He gasps.
I wordlessly hand him 32 napkins, and he uses every last one.
("Messy Or Victorious"?)